A Boy No Longer Named Brian
by luna the blonde
Summary: Not every father loves their sons and every friendship has its secrets. Not all powerful wizards have normal up bringings. This is Brian's story of his twisted childhood. Full sum inside. Book 6 & 7 dissregarded. PS, Brian is NOT an oc.
1. Dieing Embers

A Boy No Longer Named Brian

**Summery: **Not every father loves their sons and every friendship has its secrets. Not all powerful wizards have normal up bringings. Tom Riddle changed his name to separate himself from his muggle family. Harry Potter went into a violent rage when his godfather was killed. And Brian…

How could one with such a twisted childhood become one so powerful that people remember him, even years after his death, as the most powerful wizard of all time? If you told him that one day he would be a hero, he would only say, "But I'm Brian. Just Brian."

This is Brian's last year at Hogwarts, about two - three weeks into the school year. His memory is the last day of summer vacation.

**AN:** _Hallows Dissregarded, there is no spoilers. I wrote this six month before Hallows came out!_** This story is rated PG-13 for Alcohol Abuse and Violence. Susanna is my character. Please respect that. The character, Brian Jr., is not mine he's JKR's giggles. So is the epilogue. You can find it in OOTP, chapter 37 "The Lost Prophecy", pages 821-823 American hardback version. Please R&R.**

Brian gazed into the dieing embers of the once roaring fire in Gryffindor tower. It was growing very late as the last few people yawned and went to their dormitories for the night. Soon the last bushy haired blond woke with a start, realized she was asleep using her textbook as a pillow, and she too collected her things and went to bed. But Brian knew that it would be useless to go to sleep while thinking of last summer.

Brian rubbed his arm, with the ghost of the past hunting him. Even after the weeks following the horrible event, his bruises where still there. He was lucky that the ones on his face cleared up quickly, they where only visible for the first few days of school, but the ones on his arms where still tender to the touch.

The minutes ticked by slowly and the night grew older but Brian's thoughts didn't stir away from the past. His body was fighting to stay awake but his mind showed no sign of tiring as the battle in his blue eyes was unwavering as Brian barley even blinked. He was in such deep concentration that he didn't even notice a girl quietly tiptoe down the stairs from the girls' dormitories until she said his name.

"Brian?"

Brian was so startled, he jumped and stumbled on his own feet. He caught himself and looked up to see the girl walking towards him, giggling at his clumsiness. She was skinny and the white nightgown framed her angelically. Her wavy black hair flowed well past her waist and was tied loosely into a ponytail with a long red ribbon.

Brian rolled his eyes and sat down again. He was in no mood to talk to his friend. He didn't want to talk to anyone about the past, especially her. She would worry and try to weasel out every detail about the incident. Brian was just not ready to share such a dark secret of his past.

The girl didn't understand that he wanted to be left alone so she sat down next to him. A few moments past as Brian looked in to the glowing red cinders and the girl looked at Brian. The silence was too much for the girl so she spoke up.

"Brian, why aren't you in bed?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Brian responded.

"I couldn't sleep." Her voce was innocent and friendly, "Usually studying puts me out like a sleeping potion, but for some reason not even History of Magic homework can put me to sleep."

Brian thought for a moment, should he tell her the truth? They where best friends after all. But then again, she might react badly to it. He decided against it and told a reasonable lie that she would probable fall for.

"I can't sleep either. I'm just too nervous about that Charms test tomorrow." Brian held his breath. Did she buy it? Did she believe his lie? He looked at her and the expression on her face made his hart sink. Her arms where folded and one of her eyebrows was raised. The message was clear, she saw right through that sorry excuse of a lie.

"After seven years of friendship I think that you would know better than to lie to me. Brian lets face it, you're a bad liar. Your lying skills are worse than your Charms skills. "

"Maybe I can lie. It's just your amazing lie detector that always catches me off guard."

"Than what is bothering you?"

Brian looked down at his folded hands. He didn't really want to tell her but it would be useless to keep it from her. She would find out eventually, whether by his will or by force, but it was worth one more try to keep his secret.

"It is getting late. I should be going to bed." Brian started to stand up but it was not enough to stop his interrogation. The girl grabbed his arm to stop him from standing up.

"Brian, look me in the eye and tell me the truth." Her grip sent pains throughout his bruised arm. The memories flooded his mind as he tried not to show his pain. He looked away to avoid eye contact.

"Not now, I'm going to bed." Brian said trying to free his arm. But the girl just tightened her grip.

"You're just trying to avoid me." That was the truth but he didn't want to say it to her face.

"No, I'm not."

"You're lying again."

"Susanna..."

"Brian, just look at me. I want to know what's wrong. You've had this attitude for weeks." Susanna's voice grew louder and Brian's voice grew stronger to match the rising tension.

"Susanna, I'm not going to let you look into my mind."

"Than tell me."

"No!" Brian freed his arm and looked down on Susanna. He knew she would not give up that easily.

Than he felt what he was anticipating. The soft buzz at the back of his mind that alerted him of an intruding mind. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts but it was no good. She was already close to what he was hiding. Both gave a good fight trying to retain their goal. He tried to create a barrier around his mind one more time but it was too late. A cloud was covering his eyes as his memory of last summer flooded back like a rushing river after a storm. The worst part was that his best friend could see his memories too and it was too late to stop it.

AN: Dun Dun Dun! Next chap is a flashback! gasp If you don't review, Dumbledore and his twin Gandalf the White will shmite you!


	2. Memory of a Wizard

It was dark in the small bedroom. A door was slightly open only to let in the soft sounds of the night. A single window was partly covered by a dirty curtain, letting the moon light seep through and leavening aerie shadows on the two sleeping boys, sharing the messy room. The younger boy had pressed his bed against his older brother's bed. At first glance you would think it was for warmth because of the thin and warn blankets, but in the middle of the summer there is no need for the heat from another person. No, the beds where put together because the little one was afraid of the dark and wanted the comfort of his older brother, and secretly the older brother wanted the comfort too.

It was silent for a few minutes but the silents were abruptly broken with the slam of a door and the crash of a glass bottle. The younger boy sat up, suddenly alert. He listened as loud heavy boots clomped around the hallway. The younger boy shook his older brother awake. Even in the faint light of the moon the older brother could see the frightened look in his sibling's face. The older boy didn't need to ask what had frightened him because the source of their fear was heard loud and clear,

"Margaret! Boys! Guess who is home and can't get a decent family welcome."

The boys didn't know how to react to their father's voice. The brothers just sat on their beds and waited. Then the small sound of bare feet sounded on the wooden floors and a soft tired voice responded. "Brian, It is late. Come to bed. You'll wake the boys."

"Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you weren't even worried about your husband? 'It is late.' Yes, I know that and what if something happened and I didn't come home? Would you still not worry about me?" His voice was growing louder and more aggressive.

"Brian, just come to bed. I knew you where out drinking and wouldn't be home 'til late. Come, before the boys wake up." Margaret's voice trembled, as she tried to avoid a violent situation. But Brian had other ideas.

"Is that the only thing you do care for, the boys? The one is a freak of nature and the other is as dumb as a post." Brian's voice shoed no signs of trying to stop prying ears from overhearing.

The two boys where listening to every word that was said by their father. The boys sat in the dark as more insults about them where said and all their mother could do was try and calm down their drunken father. More and more evil things where said until their mother was ready to give up.

"When you are ready for bed I will be waiting." Soft footsteps turned to leave but were stopped by the heave clomp of boots and a woman's shriek.

The brothers where suddenly very scared. He was doing it again. All of them had scares from their father but it was frightening to know that someone was getting one more scar to add to the family's growing collection.

There was a horrible slur of words from their father, like snarls from a vicious wolf, followed by another woman's cry of pain.

The older brother jumped out of bed and dove under the bed.

"What are you doing?" The younger brother whispered anxiously.

The older brother did not answer but when he rose from under the bed, he held the only weapon he had that could protect his mother, his wand.

The younger brother said, "No! Don't! He'll get you, too!" The older brother didn't look back as he looked through the crack of the door. "Brian." The older brother turned around at the sound of his name, to look at his frightened brother, "Please don't Brian. He'll hurt you too."

The older brother walked back and hugged his sibling whispering, "Not this time. This time I'm old enough to stop him." There was another howl and the wizard opened the door and shouted, "STOP!"

The sight that met his eyes was one he had seen many variations of. He saw his mother pined against the wall by her drunken husband and an armed fist over her. He had seen his brother in his mother's place on a few accounts and sometimes it was him underneath those violent fists.

"Get away from Mum! Now!"

His father eyed the wand in his oldest son's hands pointed at his face and stepped away letting his wife slide to the floor, shaking.

"What are you going to do, freak? Shrink me?" his father said mockingly but the son didn't lower his wand. His father took a tentative step towards his armed son.

"Don't take another step or I'll curse you!" The father stopped again but didn't lose his sickening smirk.

"Do you really think that you can hurt me and with what? A stick? Oh, the noble Brian Junior thinks he can stop his father with a magical stick!" He threw back his head, laughing mischievously at his son.

This is not what the older brother had in mind. His arm was shaking slightly. His mother was standing up behind his father but his father didn't notice. His attention was on his oldest son. The father took another step towards his son.

"I said I'd curse you if you took another step!"

"Than try and stop me!" The son cleared his thought and shouted, "Stup-" but he was cut short because his father lunged towards his son and grabbed his wand arm, pushed it back while squeezing it tightly.

The son couldn't move his arm against his father's strength. His wand was pointed helplessly behind him. He looked into his fathers vicious brown, blood shot eyes. The smell of alcohol was strong on his father's breath. His father suddenly pushed his arm backwards emphasizing each individual word. "Don't – Question - My – Authority - Ever – Again." With the other hand he raised it high above his head and it came down sharply on his son's face.

The boy felt his face burn with pain and soon felt him being thrown to the floor. His wand flew from his hand leaving him helpless to any other attacks. He waited for more pain but he heard his mother's voice loud and strong, "Stupefy!"

Red light blinded him momentarily and saw his father fall to the ground. He looked up to see his mother pointing her own wand at her husband. It was the first time in her life that she had used magic against her own husband.

AN: /whistle/ Like my second favorite part ever! Next Chapter is my favorite! This story I created before the seventh book came out so please forgive me.


	3. Anagram

The film over Brian's eyes was lifted and he was standing back in the common room. Brian glared at his friend. How could she intrude on his mind like that? She had no right to look at his memory. They both knew it was just common courtesy not to see into other peoples' minds even though they could. They where probably the only people to pass through the school doors who could do legilimency.

Susanna was looking back at him. Her face showed an expression of shock. The worst part of her face that made Brian's hart turn, even through his anger, was that her face was wet with tears. Her voice was horse from shock and only came out as a whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Brian. I had no idea."

"What part of 'I don't want to tell you' don't you understand?" Brian's temper was rising quickly.

"Brian I didn't know."

"And that's the way I wanted it!" yelling back at his tearful friend. He felt betrayed. His best friend intruded on his only sanctuary. "There are some memories worth keeping to yourself. But I can't even keep that to myself anymore. "

Brian looked at Susanna and Susanna looked at Brian. Neither of them wanted to turn there eyes from the other and neither dared to invade the others mind.

The tense silent was interrupted by a tapping noise at the window. The two of them turned their gases to the window where a brown owl was tapping on the window with a letter clamped in its beak. Brian walked over to the window and let the owl fly in. The owl was waiting for Brian to give him his arm to perch on but after a moment the owl got impatient and just dropped the letter in front of Brian and took off out the open window.

Brian slammed the window shut, scooped up the letter, and tore it open. Susanna stood with her hands on the back of a chair to wait for what Brain had to say about the letter.

Brain read the letter in silent but his face said a lot. Susanna didn't need legilimency to tell her something was wrong. Brian's blue eyes where large with concern. His mouth was slightly open, silently mouthing the letter. Susanna waited patiently next to the chair for Brian's response. He walked back to the couch with the letter and sat down slowly. Susanna watch as Brian's mood suddenly went from scarred to infuriated.

Brian's anger got the best of him. His chest heaved with angered breath and his hands shock ravenously as he stood up. He crumpled the letter into a ball and through it in the black and red ashes. Red sparks flew from the fire as the letter started to smoke. Brian shook his head and drove his fist on the stone wall. He didn't stop there. He kicked and thrashed out at the wall, yelling, "No! No! NO! IT ISN'T TRUE!"

"Brian!" Susanna ran to Brian to stop his rage. She grabbed his wrists to stop him from bruising himself any further. He resisted her for a moment but looked at her through his sorrowful eyes and let his guard down. He allowed her to guide him to the couch next to the smoldering letter. Brian shook his head letter started to flame. His lip was trembling as they watched the letter become ashes.

Susanna was about to ask but Brian answered her question before she could get the words out of her mouth.

"He killed her."

"What!" Susanna was shocked. Whatever answer she had anticipated, that was not it. "Who? Who was killed?"

"My mother. Brian killed her. My drunken muggle father killed my mother on one of his drunken rages." Brian's voice creaked as a single tear fell from his blue eyes.

"What! Oh Brian I'm…"

"Don't call me that!" Brian snapped, "I'm not going by a murder's name. Especially my father's. I use to take pride having my fathers name when I was younger but now I'm ashamed to be his son."

"Then what? A-boy-no-longer-named-Brian is very lengthy." Brian was in no mood for Susanna's sarcasm so he hid his face in his hands to hide another tear.

The moments passed when Brian hid his tear filled face. He didn't want to show weakness in front of his dearest friend. Susanna put her arms around him to comfort him the best she could but it was not the same as a mother's love.

Brian just lost the one person that would hold him at night when he was scared and supported him when he got his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. His whole world seemed to be crashing down on his shoulders with the loss of his mother.

Suddenly, Susanna sat up strait. Her arms fell from Brian's shoulders as she picked up a broken quill from a nearby table. Now it was Brian's turn to read her face. Her pressed lips and focused eyes told Brian that she had a crazy idea. As Susanna took a discarded bit of parchment off the floor Brian explained the letter to her. It was better to tell her now rather than later.

"The letter was from half a dozen people from the Ministry. Magical Law Informant, Obliviator Headquarters and a few others. My father is a muggle so he couldn't defend himself against my mother so he snapped her wand before he…" Another set of silent tears rolled down his face. He whipped them away and watched Susanna on the floor crawling around. He continued, hoping that she didn't see him cry.

"Because he is a muggle, he can not be punished by the Ministry but he was married to a witch so he has a right to keep his memory of magic. The Ministry pushed the muggle's investigation as much as they could but it will take some time before he is put to justice in the muggle law."

Susanna continued searching and after a few minutes, she found a forgotten inkwell and stood up, rather pleased with her find.

"So in other words," Brian was not sure he could say it but he did, "the Ministry is going to do nothing more."

The inkwell fell from Susanna's hands with a thump. The lid flew off and it started dripping black ink on the floor.

"Nothing?" Susanna was mortified, "Nothing at all? But your Mum was amazing. It was because of her that we met. Remember on the platform. I lost my cat and she found it and introduced us. But nothing? My Dad is in the Ministry. He works with the Minister of Magic. Maybe he can help. "

"The father that refused to talk to you for three months because you where put in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin?"

"Well, yes but I can't help that I have a racist pureblood family. My Dad, my brother, everyone in my family is like that. It just goes with the Prince family, I guess. Enough about my family's problems. Watch this!" Susanna looked down at the spilt ink.

"Brian, can I barrow your wand? Mine is up in my dormitory."

Brian merely nodded as he pasted her his wand. She waved it and the spilt ink was cleaned. She handed him his wand back and he watched her tare the parchment in five squares. On each square she wrote a different lowercase letter; an l, two n's, a b, and an a. She scrambled and unscrambled and flipped them upside down to get u's instead of n's and the b to get p's and q's. Brian took an interest in Susanna's game and watched her for a few minutes until she scratched out one of the n's and replaced it with an s. The letters spelled out a-l-b-u-s.

"There." Susanna announced proudly. "Your new name. Taken from 'a-boy-no-longer-named' changed and rearranged the first letters to give you a new name; Albus. Now you don't have to keep your fathers name. "

For the first time all night Brian smiled. "Albus." He pondered the new name for a minute, seeing how it felt to be said out loud. It felt strong, noble and wise. "I like it. Now I am Albus Percival, that's my father's father's name, Wulfric, that's my mother's father's name, Brian Dumbledore."

Susanna hugged her friend and smiled back at him. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. It's a name fit for any warlock."

Albus and Susanna walk to the stairs leading to their separate dormitories hand in hand. Before departing for the night they hugged one more time and went up the separate stairs. Albus was half way up the stairs when Susanna ran up behind him.

"Would you like me to tell Aberforth? I mean, if you want help breaking the news to him I can help. He is only seven. It might be hard for him to accept."

"It said in my letter that he is staying with my aunt down at Hogsmeade." Albus responded, "I think that the Ministry would have given a letter to my aunt before we go to her pub on Saturday. I will go down and talk to them if you would like to come."

"Oh Albus, by the way, today is Friday. We have no classes tomorrow so the Charms test isn't tomorrow. That's why it was so easy to tell you where lying. Anyway, tomorrow I will go with you to the Hog's Head to tell your brother if you don't mind me going."

"Not at all. It's gust hard to think that she's gone." Albus's eyes fell to the floor holding back more tears.

"Albus look at me," Susanna said, "I want you to know that I will always, always be there for you. No matter what. You are now a new man and you can start over by trusting me. Trust me with all your hart and mind." Albus looked up and his blue eyes met her black eyes and with that look he knew it was the utter truth.

AN: Tada! Only the epilogue to go! FYI, Susanna is Snape's whatever relative you want. The point is is that they are related. Did you understand my anagram or am I just crazy?


	4. The Last Sorrowful Tear

It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it….There was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius vanished. He could not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, he could not stand it-

A picture behind him gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah…Harry Potter…"

Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry out of shrewd, narrow eyes.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" said Phineas. "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh don't tell me…" He gave and other shuddering yawn. "Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Harry could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but Harry could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.

A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made Harry stride across the room and seize the doorknob.

It would not turn. He was shut in.

"I hope this means," said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk, "that Dumbledore will soon be back with us?"

Harry turned. The wizard was surveying him with great interest. Harry nodded. He tugged again on the doorknob behind his back, but it remained immovable.

"Oh good," said the wizard. "It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed."

He settled himself on the tronelike chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon Harry.

"Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know," he said comfortable. "Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem."

The guilt filled the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite now writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being Harry anymore… He had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody-anybody-else…

The empty fireplace burst into emerald-green flame, making Harry leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake. Many of them gave cries of welcome.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.

He did not look at Harry at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, fatherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, "you will be pleased to hear that none of you fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

Harry tried to say "Good", but no sound came out. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the amount of damage he had caused by his actions tonight, and although Dumbledore was for once looking at him directly, and though his expression was kindly rather than accusatory, Harry could not bear to meet his eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up now," said Dumbledore. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems that she will make a full recovery."

Harry contented himself with nodding at the carpet, which was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler. He was sure that all the portraits around the room were listening closely to every word Dumbledore spoke, wondering where Dumbledore and Harry had been and why there had been injuries.

"I know how you are feeling, Harry." said Dumbledore very quietly.

"No, you don't," said Harry, and his voice was suddenly loud and strong. White-hot anger leapt inside him.

Harry thought that Dumbledore knew nothing about his feelings.

Little did Harry know that the man, standing in front of him, that was once called Brian, knew exactly how Harry felt. He, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, knew how Harry was feeling, down to the last sorrowful tear.

AN: Sorry I was so lame ending and had used JKR to end my story for me! Please R&R. Read and, not run, but review!


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